Fathoms to Fingertips
by JollyMyRoger
Summary: Killian wakes up in a strange room that there seems to be no escape from, but he's not alone. There's a girl in a golden dress who knows exactly what's going on.


Killian stumbled into his cabin completely exhausted and every breath causing him pain. He'd left that atrocious hospital place as soon as he'd gotten himself out of the little manacle Emma had left him in. He was still cursing the fact his hook hadn't been in that little bin that held all his clothes, the Swan girl must have taken it with her when she left. The thought brought a chuckle to him, which brought a new wave of pain, which caught him up further in his exhaustion.

Definitely time to not get beaten with a cane or hurling oneself in front of those car contraptions.  
He shuffled over to his bed, trying to not aggravate his ribs any more in the process, and lowered himself down into it. His last thought before sleep came over him was a wonder where Emma could have gone to. Right before he dropped off he could have sworn he heard her laugh which was impossible since he had never heard her laugh before, but it was just as he imagined it might be. Sweet and clear and free, a beautiful thing.

Killian woke up moments later on an unfamiliar wood floor. He hadn't felt anything move him but yet there he was, lying on some dark wood floor that was reflecting soft candlight. He slowly lifted himself off the floor, turning around in an attempt to orient himself to his surroundings. He could just make out that the room was round, the walls made of the same wood as the floor but with intricate carvings of feathers, vines, and other odd shapes.

As he slowly pivoted his gaze finally fell upon the center room which held what looked to be a large, white, circular platform, various ironwork candelabras were scattered around the far edge of the platform, emitting the soft glow that pervaded the room, but none of this caught his attention. Standing right before the edge of the platform was a woman with her back to him. She was wearing a dress that seemed to be made of long strips of golden cloth, a few wide strips wound around her body while thinner ones encircled her arms, draped off her waist to form a shroud over her legs, or drifted around her as they were moved by an unfelt breeze. Her head was half turned towards him even though she made no sign that she knew he was there, but then the same breeze that made her dress dance blew her golden hair away and uncovered the side of her face that was angled towards him. The sound of Killian's sharp intake of breath and the pained grunt that followed it was swallowed by the room, this was either a dream or soon to become a nightmare, the woman standing in front of him was Emma Swan.

"Emma," he started with a shaky voice, "How are...where are..." His voice faded away as she turned towards him, the ribbons of her dress and her hair fluttering around her, concern and surprise lining her face.

"Killian..." She trailed off with a smile, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest, "You snuck out of the hospital, didn't you?"

He laughed, and then groaned, while reveling in the strange delight that her saying his name gave him. "Am I really that transparent, love?"

She nodded as she strode over to him, the wind carrying her hair and dress around her in a mesmerizing pattern, he found himself transfixed with every inch of her. From her bare feet, to the strips of her legs he could see under between the ribbons, to her tightly wrapped stomach, her loosely constrained arms, the swell of her bosom, and her beautiful face. Oh what she did to him, the unwitting siren. How she didn't have men hanging off her every movement he could never understand, perhaps they were simply too stupid to see what he saw. Beautiful, brave, brilliant Emma bloody Swan.

"Y'know, Hook, I don't have a middle name and I'd really rather not use 'bloody' either way," she said with a smirk flourishing on her face as she stopped right in front of him, apparently she'd addled him enough that he had said that last part aloud.

"No, no that's more of a title than a name, love," he whispered as he gazed into her eyes.

She raised a hand as stroked the side of his face, the feeling of her skin on his was both warm and comforting as it was electrifying and thrilling. "Where are you, Killian?" she asked quietly.

He had been leaning his head into her hand, his eyes closed and his mind surrendering to simply enjoying her touch but at her words his eyes flew up, and he reached his hand out and grasped hers. "I'm here with you, love, right here...aren't I?"

"No," was her whispered reply, the hand he had trapped in his own slid back until it was simply their fingers entangling.

"Then I'm...I'm on my ship, I'm not...this is just a dream?" His voice was tinged with panic, this moment was perfect, how could it not be real, what cruelty was life giving to him now?

Emma drove his panic away then, hushing him as she stepped forward and kissed him. Her lips tasted cherries and her breath like poppies. He could feel the same electric and warm feeling spreading from her lips, across his, traveling across his skin and through his bones, filling his entire being with what he could only describe as the magic that lay in that perfect moment. He shivered and could feel her doing the same as he wrapped his free arm around her back, their clasped hands wound their fingers together in a bond that promised to be unbreakable. Her hand on his face had moved to his hair, tangling through it with a gentle, yet inexorable, passion. The ribbons of her dress whipped in the wind to curl around them, binding them together.

Only when their lungs screamed for air did they break apart, gasping she lay her head in the crook where his neck met his shoulders, he lay his on top of her hair fighting for air as well. The ribbons around them had slackened, yet still connected him to her and her to him, reassuring him that his feelings were reciprocated. After a moment, Emma pulled back, her one hand trailing under his chin tracing an electric line, her other still bound up with his and giving him the calm warmth to offset it.

"Yes, Killian, this is a dream. But dreams are simply a heart's deepest wish, especially dreams as clear as this one," she told him with the most breathtaking smile, full of joy, that he had to return, "And both our hearts are dreaming this dream." She pulled him back towards the great platform, the ribbons caressing him and pulling him with her, he had yet to notice that the pain in his ribs had vanished, but Emma did note the bruises had all faded away to leave only his handsome face.

"And didn't you know, love, we've only been asleep for a few minutes each," she whispered in his ear after she pulled him down onto the bed, her hand trailing electricity down his chest and stomach, her smile devious, her eyes full of promise. "Time moves differently in dreams."


End file.
